


The Hunt

by Talullah



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-07-23
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long before the Union of Maedhros, our favorite redhead already had hegemonic thoughts... and just about the same degree of success.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to jaiden_s for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Written for the 50passages challenge; each chapter corresponds to a prompt. The characters are referred by their Sindarin name except when in direct speech or when they only had a Quenya name. Prompt 01: I knew I'd want it, if I hadn't got it!
> 
> Characters: Maedhros (Nelyafinwë, Nelyo, Maitimo, Russandol), Maglor (Canafinwë, Makalaurë), Celegorm the Fair, (Turcafinwë, Tyelkormo), Caranthir the Dark (Morifinwë, Carnistir), Curufin the Crafty (Curufinwë, Atarinkë), Amrod (Pityafinwë, Ambarto), Amras (Telufinwë, Telyo, Ambarussa), Fingon (Findekáno), Turgon (Turukáno), Aredhel (Irissë), Argon (Arakáno, Anairë), Finrod Felagund (Findaráto Ingoldo), Angrod (Angarato), Aegnor (Aikanár, Aikanáro), Galadriel (Artanis, Nerwen).
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Valinor, 1446 Valian Years of the Trees**

The family gathered around the long dinner table, seeking their usual places. The two older brothers, Maedhros and Maglor, talked quietly, while the younger two, by contrast, laughed their way into the room, their guffaws dwindling into giggles as their father set his stern eyes on them.

Fëanor sat at the head of the table, placing his hands flat on the tabletop, waiting for all his children to settle down before the meal began. The last person to come into the room was his wife, Nerdanel, who sat at the opposite side of the table.

Fëanor cleared his throat. "Good evening, wife. How good of you to join us," he said icily.

Maedhros lowered his head with a sigh, louder than he had intended. His siblings wiggled unconfortably in their chairs. The hostilities seemed to start earlier and earlier at each meal. Lately, Nerdanel often stayed for dinner at her father's house, and sometimes even for the night. It was hard for the children to determine if they preferred an absent mother or endless shouting, often accompanied by broken china and interrupted meals. Fortunately, that evening Nerdanel opted for irony instead of red-hot anger.

"Why, my dear husband, it is rare and sublime pleasure to find you outside of your forge and it must be thouroughly enjoyed."

Fëanor pressed his lips together tightly, but did not take the bait. Instead he nodded for the servant to serve dinner. The seven brothers stayed silent, even the Ambarrussa, knowing all too well that the slightest coment could start a new war.

Maedhros discretely placed his hand on the table with three fingers curled and the other two stretched, provoking a hard scowl from Carnistir who sat opposite to him and a choked sound of stifled laughter from Maglor who sat by his side. All three knew what he meant: a silent bet that the peace would hold no longer than two courses.

"Child, are you well?" Fëanor asked Maglor, more annoyance than true concern in his voice.

Maglor raised his eyes from his plate. "Yes, sir, perfectly fine, thank you."

A period of tense silence followed, punctuated by the occasional noises of cutlery hitting china, glasses being filled, a chair being adjusted. Maglor eventually broke the silence.

"And yourself, dear father?" he asked as if almost a full course had not passed since Fëanor had addressed him.

Fëanor looked up surprised. "You see me every day, child..."

Maglor stared at his plate again. He had only wanted to start a normal conversation... one like those his family had so often had in the past, before the sundering of their parents, when his father was not always absorbed in his mysterious project and their mother laughed often, but not out of scorn or insincerety.

To everyone's surprise, Fëanor, after a few more seconds of consideration, decided to play along.

"I am fine." A faint smile graced his lips, one that was reminiscent of better days. "My project is almost finished. I think that by the end of this summer it will be complete, and then you will truly be proud of your father's accomplishments."

Nerdanel's expression of disaproval was as good as invisible, as Fëanor's unexpected speech drew everyone's eyes to him.

"Father, there is no greater elf alive," Curufin exclaimed. "We don't need more to make us proud of being your sons."

The other brothers murmured their approval, sincerely, despite their sadness regarding the growing estrangement between their parents. There were even a few smiles, and for once, Nerdanel remained silent and watchful.

"So, what will you do this summer, have you thought about that?" Fëanor asked, as if suddenly he had experienced an epiphany, revealing to him the joys of family life.

The twins giggled with some devious plan of their own, but Celegorm was the first to answer.

"I was wanting to talk about that with you, Father."

"Yes?"

"Oromë has invited me to spend the summer in his woods, hunting, riding, exploring..."

Fëanor's smile dwindled. "The whole summer?"

Celegorm pouted. "Yes, well, you see, the woods are enourmous... He said I could bring company... Carnistir and Atarinkë could come, too... they like hunting."

Curufin jumped into the conversation. "But you know I have a project and that I want to spend the summer working with Father."

"We want to go, too," the twins whined from their side of the table, near Nerdanel.

"I'll go and you should go, too," Caranthir added to Curufin. "It will be fun, and you need to spend more time outside."

"And you should mind your own business!" Curufin shouted back at him.

"Boys!" Nerdanel shouted, bringing the uneasy silence back to the table.

Maglor rolled his eyes, and Maedhros sighed. Their parents were still calling them 'boys' and 'children' despite their age, and they could not even complain, given the behaviour of their brothers.

The servants brought the second course. Maedhros repeated his discrete gesture with a glint of amusement in his eyes, but Maglor did not smile back.

The silence persisted for a little longer until Celegorm broke it again. "Father? There is one thing more."

He waited for Fëanor to look at him, giving him his full attention. "Oromë says he has a hound for me." Fëanor set his cutlery down slowly.

"And how did you know you wanted a dog? I never heard you mention this before..."

"I knew I'd want it, if I hadn't got it!", Celegorn exclaimed in his often clumsy way. Feeling the storm coming, he hastily added, "Actually, I know the hound; it's Huan, that large black dog who follows him around. He's a wonderful dog for hunting but he is also an excellent company and the best camp guard ever."

"Turkafinwë..."

Celegorm chose to ignore the warning implicit in the use of his full name and the even tone of his father's voice.

"He truly is wonderful, Father, and one cannot refuse a gift from a Vala, can he?"

"No, one can't," said Nerdanel in her firmest tone. "We'll make him a nice shelter in the garden. I'm sure you will spend many wonderful hours with your new friend."

"This house is mine too and these children are mine too!!" Fëanor shouted even as he rose, his chair falling back.

"And you have been ruling them with your tight iron fist for far too long!!" Nerdanel shouted back.

"We will see who has the last word in this. I warn you, Nerdanel!" he said, kicking the chair on hte floor.

"No, you listen, I warn you! Heed my words, Curufinwë! You won't have a wife for long if you insist on- "

"Fine!"

"May Morgoth Bauglir take both you and your precious work!"

Fëanor stomped to the door and slammed it shut so hard that it opened again, as Nerdanel slid back bonelessly into her chair.

"So much for a nice family dinner," she said, trying for humour, but a tremor in her voice revealing her true feelings.

The twins reached out to hold her. "We are sorry, mama."

She squeezed their arms and delicately pushed them away. "Eat your dinner, dears. It's getting cold."


	2. Conspirators

**The following day**

Maglor sat by the window, extracting a few idle notes from his harp. His lazy fingers were the only sign of life in the room, as the curtains hung dead in the windows, not the slightest breeze bringing them life or relief to the occupants of the room. He favoured this room for its acoustics, but lately the heat took the joy out of the music.

Eventually he set his harp to the side, and reclined against the wall, knowing that the coolness of the stone would last only for a few moments.

"Russ," he called, too lazy to complete the word.

A growl came from the daybed placed in front of the next window. "I'm here."

"You know what I was thinking?"

A faint grunt was all the invitation Maglor needed.

"I think that this summer will be exceptionally hot. I mean, it's still springtime and we are already melting here."

Maedhros did not encourage him, but he went on.

"I think that for once, we should do something different... we have been stuck in this house for far too long, ever since father started this thing he's doing. I miss riding out and exploring..."

"You whine all the way..." Maedhros reminded him.

"Well, true, but that doesn't mean that I don't enjoy it."

"What do you have in mind?"

"One of two things," Maglor started enthusiastically. "Either we go visit our Teleri cousins and refresh ourselves in the sea... which could create a few complicated situations if our big-mouthed brothers were to come with us, not to mention that you and Carnistir would disappear under all the freckles by the end of the summer..." Maglor waited for a flying pillow aimed at him but it was too hot for Maedhros to retaliate.

"Or..." he continued, "We could all join Tyelkormo in his visit to Oromë's woods..."

"You hate hunting," Maedhros pointed out bluntly.

"I do... but I'm not after the hunt but rather the cool shade of the trees... and besides our little brother has been spending way too much time alone with Oromë." Maglor snickered.

"Oh, please!" Maedhros growled.

"What?!" Maglor raised his voice in fake indignation before cackling with laughter.

"Tyelkormo's infatuation is growing nearly insufferable and he's making a fool of himself. One of these days, Father will take his mind off work for more than two seconds and I tell you, it won't be pretty..." Maedhros sighed loudly as he sat up in his chaise. He rubbed his eyes, stretched amply, and yawned, only to recline again, overwhelmed by the heat.

"You know, this idea of yours might not be so bad," he declared a few moments later. "Maybe we should all go, cousins and all. Mother and father would probably benefit from our absence..."

"A second honeymoon, you think?"

"Eh, they've been irritable during the day, and conspicuously silent during the night..."

"Maitimo!! Shut up, I don't want to know that!" Maglor shouted, laughing.

"Eh, you have lived in this house for almost as long as I have." They cackled.

"But now seriously," Maglor said, after the laughing subsided, "Do you think there's any chance that they could be... erm... peaceful again?"

"They were never peaceful, you know that."

"Yes, but that was different."

"Yes, they kept half of Valinor awake at night after each fight. Maybe now we are lucky and don't know it." This time the joke didn't make them laugh.

"Well, things change. Whatever father's doing, he'd better end it quickly before mother loses what's left of her patience. It has been too long that he has turned into himself and his work. And they did call little Ambarussa 'Last Finwë'..."

"Surely you don't think that even then..."

Maedhros rubbed his face. "I don't know... but not long ago I heard Father asking Grandfather about his definitive separation from Grandmother Míriel..."

"No! I cannot believe that you never told me this. What did they say?" Maglor rose from his chair, walked swiftly to his brother, and sat on the edge of the chaise.

"I didn't hear it all. I'm not sure he was asking with any relation to mother or not. What I heard was Father about the divorce law, to which Grandfather replied, 'I am not the master of the law, and cannot set it aside. A special boon was granted to me as you well know.'"

Maglor sunk his face in his hands. "Is it possible that it has reached this point?"

Despite the heat, Maedhros sat up and draped an arm around his brother. "We will give them the summer, and I'm sure they will come to terms. We just have to get Atarinkë on our side."

"Not an easy task..."

"No, but he'll see our point, I'm sure, and Father will be happy to allow our leaving, if the request comes from our little brother... besides, I think Atarinkë has been getting on his nerves of late."

"Done deal. We'll persuade him." Maglor squeezed his brother's thigh and left to find Atarinkë.


	3. Persuaders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 03: I suppose you feel that everything has gone off splendidly and according to plan?
> 
> Findis is one of Finwë's daughters, mentioned in 'The Peoples of Middle-earth' and 'Morgoth's Ring'. Her son, Órëanar (Rising Sun), is my invention, and he is to be known as Glorfindel later on. *wink*.

Curufin was pleased. At first, he had not really appreciated the idea of spending a summer away from home when he was so close to concluding his new project, a special bow that worked like a machine. His brothers laughed at the idea, and he was dead set on showing them that it could be an accurate weapon, more powerful than the best bow in the hands of the strongest archer. Not that he preferred shooting arrows to wielding a nice, well-balanced sword, of course. But if something existed, it existed to be perfected, and he would leave his mark on archery history.

It was just a pity that he was stuck with a problem that seemed unsolvable for the moment, an annoying defect on the trigger that required a gross overcorrection to the right if one should want to hit anything. He was starting to despair. Perhaps Maglor's suggestion of setting aside his problem and finding other sources of inspiration was indeed a good one. The hunting expedition might be fun, not to mention that the climate in the house was insufferable. Mother kept picking at poor Father, who only wanted to finish his mystery project. Women simply did not understand certain things about the importance of work, not even one as crafty his mother.

So Curufin had let himself be persuaded and, as in anything else in his life, he had grown to love the idea whole-heartedly, devoting his best efforts to its implementation. His wise words quickly showed Celegorm the advantages of taking the whole family, instead of just him and Caranthir. The both knew how Caranthir's idiotic pranks could become insufferable rather quickly; a large group meant more victims for his tasteless jokes, therefore lessening the frequency played on them.

His elder and younger brothers needed no persuasion, of course, so he only had left his father. He found him in the forge, as usual, and waited, carefully picking the moment to interrupt, lest his father became cross. Fëanor took his time to notice his son's presence, but when he did, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm and came closer.

"So, my son, have you finished that project of yours?" he asked rather absently.

"Not yet, father... I'm having some trouble."

"Child, you know that I cannot take time to help you now, don't you?"

"Oh, I know, Father," Curufin quickly replied. "That was why I wanted to talk with you... I think that I really might need your help, which I know it's not possible now, so I thought that maybe if Tyelkormo went hunting after all, maybe I could join him... I wouldn't be in the way as I am now, you could finish your project in peace and when we returned you could help me with mine. What do you think?"

Fëanor chewed his lip. "I'll tell you what I think," he started pensively, "I think that your brother spends far too much time with that Vala. You know that I don't like the thought of them indoctrinating you boys with their pious ideas."

"Oh but father, if we all went, there wouldn't be any time for that. It would be just a big family gathering. Probably, we'd only see Oromë once or twice, spend some time in courtesy greetings and that would be it."

"Perhaps..." Fëanor replied, not entirely convinced. At that moment, the twins bustled in the forge.

"Ah, Tyelko, there you are!" they said in unison. "Come spar with us; Ambarussa keeps cheating."

"I do not," said the younger twin indignantly.

"Do to!" replied his older brother.

"Do-"

"All right!" Curufin shouted. "Wait outside and I'll join you as soon as I finish my conversation with Father."

The twins pouted symmetricaly and huffed their way out of the forge. Fëanor rubbed his forehead, looking tired.

"Well, maybe it's not such a bad idea, this hunt of yours. I do need some peace and quiet."

Curufin contained a grin. "Thank you, Father. I'll start the preparations, then."

He bowed, knowing that his father hated to be touched when covered in sweat, and left the forge, a smug grin spread widely across his handsome face as he enjoyed the satisfaction of a job well done. He searched for his elder brothers, forgotten of his promise to the twins, to tell them the news.

Maedhros and Maglor listened to his embellished telling of his feat of getting permission and when he was done, they patted him the back.

"Well done, brother, that was masterful," Maedhros said. "Now we just have to persuade Celegorm to take the entire lot in his party."

"Entire lot? What lot?" asked Curufin slightly confused. "We are only six, seven counting him. Surely you are not thinking of taking servants?"

"I meant our cousins..." Maedhros added cautiously.

"Ah, Findekáno and Irissë will be no burden!"

Maedhros and Maglor exchanged a glance.

"Actually, what Maedhros meant is that we should take all our cousins, a sort of-"

Maglor was cut short by Curufin's bellow. "What??! You tricked me, you... you... oafs!"

Curufin had turned redder than Carnistir and prepared to do one of his dramatic exits, so carefully copied from their father, but Maedhros halted him.

"Wait, hear me out." Curufin pouted but listened.

"I think that this family needs some unity. We have so many cousins and yet we are only friends with a few. That should change."

"But-"

"Listen! Do you remember that you hated Irissë when you were little? Now you two are such good friends. Don't you think you should give an equal chance to our other cousins?"

Curufin pout receded. "Maybe... But I won't babysit for Findis's boy if he is to go."

"Fine. No one asks you to do that," Maedhros replied.

"And besides, it won't be needed." Maglor added. "I doubt that she will let young Órëanar from under her skirts."

"We already started talking about this with our cousins and it would look very bad if we were to pull out," Maedhros noted.

"And you wouldn't want your eldest brother to look bad, would you?" Maglor concluded.

Curufin huffed, squinted, and pouted more. "You two are against me, and there is nothing that I can do right now, but I swear that if that snotty Nerwen witch comes close to me I won't stay put. And the same goes for Turukáno, if he tries to give me one of his moral lectures, you hear?"

"Atarinkë, calm down," Maedhros said. "There will be so many people in the group that you won't ever have to mingle with them. We can get along fine with polite nods and 'good morning, good nights' don't you think?"

"It had better be just that, I tell you." Curufin finally grabbed his chance and made his theatrical exit from the room.

Maglor sighed. "I suppose you feel that everything has gone off splendidly and according to plan?"

Maedhros sighed in reply. "It could have been worse."


End file.
